


Turning Pages

by LaKoda0518



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Cute, Everyone knows how Sherlock REALLY is lol, Fanart appreciation, Fluff, I cannot tell you all how much I love this piece of art!, John Watson reads the newspaper, M/M, My favorite artist, Newspaper comic, Ode to fanart, Sherlock Is Cheeky, Speedy's, The boys discover fanart, just for fun, thinkanddoodle-batch, when one of your besties is an artist, you represent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-20 00:43:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20666504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaKoda0518/pseuds/LaKoda0518
Summary: Dedication to a friend... John Watson sees a fan-drawn comic in the newspaper concerning his everyday life with Sherlock. They both know how truthful it really is and, although Sherlock tries to deny it, they both couldn't be happier.





	Turning Pages

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Thinkanddoodle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thinkanddoodle/gifts).

> This is dedicated to one of my best friends, thinkanddoodle-batch, and her amazing contributions to this fandom. If you haven't seen her work (which I can't believe that!) then you are missing out. She makes some of the best content I have ever seen and I am honoured to call her my friend <3 So, here's to you, dear! You deserve all the best in the world! 
> 
> Link to the Speedy's Cafe piece: https://thinkanddoodle-batch.tumblr.com/post/186447181639/thinkanddoodle-batch-coffee-john-tags

John chuckles from behind his newspaper as he turns the pages. ' _ Giggled, actually…'  _ Sherlock thinks as his eyes dart up from his violin strings. The creases at the edges of his eyes are deeper, proof of genuine mirth being brought out in his seemingly ordinary features. On the outside, John Watson is normal, plain, and reliable; much like every other middle-aged man in London. However, beneath the seemingly shallow surface, Sherlock knows that he's so much more.

John giggles once again and Sherlock finally sighs, setting his phone to the side. "Alright, what is it?" he asks, knowing full well what John is doing. If he laughs at something enough, he knows Sherlock will grow curious enough to eventually take an interest.

"Well, there's this cartoon in the papers…" he starts, but his words trail off. He bites his bottom lip - holding in another fit of giggles. 

_ Honestly, John? _

He thrusts the paper at Sherlock with a grin, "Here, just see for yourself,".

It takes Sherlock a moment, but he finally finds it. There, in the centre of the page, is a midsize cartoon doodle of their building. The door to 221 is ornately accurate; they even have Speedy's cafe attached to the right of the entryway.

The thing that makes the little drawing so unique, and obviously the reason for John's ridiculous giggles, is the addition of little thought bubbles with two familiar faces doodled inside. It isn't hard to see that the two characters are meant to be himself and John. Why, even for a cartoonist, the artist has done an exceptional job of getting their features just right: his trademark cheekbones are drawn quite well and John's features are softer and more rounded, more inviting. 

Yes, the artist has captured them better than he would have imagined. It's so well done that Sherlock almost feels flattered… almost. There are a couple of lines of dialogue written into the drawing -  _ comic? Is it considered a comic now that he's noticed the short conversation? _

The dialogue starts out normal enough: Sherlock asking John if he would like a coffee, John replying that he would like that very much. Typical banter really, but it's the next two lines that cause Sherlock to furrow his brow and pout.

"That is not  _ at all _ what I would really say," he insists, folding the newspaper and placing it gingerly on the end table.

The ex-army doctor barks out a laugh before he can stop himself. "You can't be serious?" he protests; his eyes widening enough that his eyebrows have gotten lost beneath his fringe. "Sherlock, that is more 'you' than anything I have ever seen in my life. As a matter of fact, I'm pretty sure someone has bugged this flat - other than Mycroft Bloody Holmes - because I actually think you've really said that to me before,". 

Sherlock scoffs and rolls his eyes, pointedly  _ not _ looking at the newspaper. John picks it back up and heads for the kitchen. There's a rustle of miscellaneous objects in a drawer before John returns brandishing a pair of scissors. 

"I, for one, like this one very much," he begins as he takes the scissors to the page and clips the comic out, "and because I like it, I intend to keep it,". He finishes the clipping and lays the scrap of newspaper on the coffee table, smoothing it out with the flat of his hand. 

The detective rolls his eyes in mock irritation and tries to keep from smiling as John holds up the comic to inspect it. He seems pleased with his handiwork and turns it to Sherlock so that he can see it. The work is very well done, he admits, and he knows that the artist -  _ 'thinkanddoodle-batch' _ , he reads as he squints at the clipping - has had to have put an awful lot of time and effort into it, so he just shakes his head. Deep down, he knows all too well how accurate the interpretation of their domesticity is and the way it makes John grin like he's just won a million quid is enough to push Sherlock into action. 

Plucking the clipping from the doctor's steady hand, Sherlock makes his way to their mantle and places it front and centre, propping it in front of the carriage clock. Who cares if it obscures the clock facing from view? It isn't like they need to see it to know what time it is; they do have mobile phones after all.

No, this - this little newspaper comic clipping - and the intimate nature of the truthfulness it encompasses is more important. It makes John Watson happy and, if John is happy, then Sherlock is happy and that's all that matters in the end.

John comes up to stand beside Sherlock and threads their fingers together, catching the taller man off guard. Holding hands is a comforting gesture that they've taken part in many times, but only ever in the quiet of the flat. However, something about the moment feels like all of that is about to change. Sherlock and John have known about their love for one another and have always kept their private life private… but something about seeing their comfortable relationship printed in black and white in front of them sends a tingle through them both. 

Their love for one another is obvious to anyone who has ever come into contact with them or seen them interact with one another under any circumstances. In fact, it is so obvious that this wonderful, insightful artist has even been able to capture the very thing that makes their romantic relationship work: the ease and comfort of their friendship.

"It looks nice up there," John finally says, breaking the silence and squeezing Sherlock's fingers in his own. "Thank you for humouring me,". Blunt fingers disentangle from Sherlock's long ones and John winks at him with a fond smile before turning to get the scissors so he can return them to the drawer. 

He isn't fast enough, though, and Sherlock takes a step before grasping the doctor's hand once again and pulling him into a gentle hug. He can feel the wave of affection that washes over John and, in turn, floods into him as well. If the world can already see it, why keep it to themselves anymore?

"John, I think…"

Sherlock's mouth is dry, but he licks his lips and tries again.

"I think it's finally time to tell the world our story," the detective finishes, pulling back to analyse the doctor's reaction.

His navy blue eyes are blown wide with wonder, but the soft beginnings of an intimate smile lie in wait at the edges of his mouth. "You think… you mean, we should," John starts and stops. He inhales deeply and puffs out a heavy breath.

_ Breathe, John… it's all fine… _

Sherlock nods just once, confident and reassuring. "Yes, I think we've kept it to ourselves long enough… you love me and I most certainly love you. We know that this works between us and have done now for about nine months. There isn't any logical reasoning for us to keep our relationship a secret any longer," he replies, finishing John's train of thought matter of factly. "You can even write it in a post on your blog if you'd like; we can make an official announcement and then it will all be out in the open. I can take your hand as we board the tube on a trip down to NSY and you can kiss me in public after I've undoubtedly done something incredibly life-threatening and dangerous to reassure yourself that I am in fact okay and still very much alive,".

He winks as John's smile widens even more than Sherlock ever thought possible and, before he can come up with a smug retort, John leans up on his toes and tugs Sherlock into a fierce kiss. He kisses him with a decidedly furious passion that Sherlock is ninety-nine percent sure is going to lead to so much more and they break apart long enough to exchange a heated glance.

"Bedroom?" Sherlock whispers; his tongue flicking out over his now bruised lips.

John nods, enthusiastically, "Yes, definitely. Absolutely yes… And then," he adds, a soft gleam in his eye, "we tell Mrs Hudson our big news. She deserves to know first,".

Sherlock chuckles and cocks a cheeky eyebrow, "Don't you think she's already very well aware of our change in relationship status?"

He smirks as John tilts his head, confusion knitting his brows together. Leaning down to press a chaste kiss to John's cheek, Sherlock smirks against the stubbled skin. "I'm quite sure that she's already figured it out… what with me shouting your name as I come-"

"Alright! Alright!" John yelps; a furious blush creeping over his face and down his neck. "Just get into bed before I change my mind, will you?" he challenges in an attempt to regain his dominant composure.

Sherlock grins and turns over his shoulder as he laces their fingers together, tugging John down the hall to their bedroom. The door closes with a quiet click and the comic on the mantel becomes a permanent fixture in their flat for many years to come. The comforts of Baker Street immortalised forever in newspaper print. Their past, their present, their future. Their life, their home… turning the pages, now, for all the world to see.

  
  
  
  


  
  



End file.
